The Consultant
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: Spoilers for the series finale- So, here they were, all together, ready to bear hug, and what did he have to hear? They already have a consultant. Who, during the case, was in the victim's kitchen. Really. Shawn could already feel a contract coming his way...


A flash-fic for the finale of Psych, after YEARS I haven't written for the show... because really. When you say that your consultant is in the kitchen, I think Patrick Jane.

* * *

As Shawn took all of it in, he shook his head, grinning. Here he was, where he thought he would never be again: with his amazing girlfriend, Jules, and the best friend ever - and a dead body at his feet. But ehy. He had been a consultant for the Police long enough for it to not be a novelty.

(Besides, how did Lassie thought that his father had trained him in the fine art of crime-solving? Yeah. By dragging him along to crime scenes since he was a kid. And people wondered why he wasn't completely normal.)

Actually, he was a bit mad that Gus had followed him to Frisco. He had done that amazing, Oscar-worthy video, opening his whole big heart to him, and admitted, him, that he had kind of, sort of ruined his best friend forever's life… and Gus left his dream job, that one he hadn't been able to stop talking about for weeks, to follow him to Frisco?

Ok, he had to admit it: he felt flattered. Girl-asked to the prom by the hottest quarterback around town flattered.

"Ah. Guys, look at us. We all here…. Ehy, you know what? I think…. we can set up shop here!" he said, like he just had the most brilliant idea ever. Gus was more than happy- actually, the way he was behaving like a dog trying to get his owner's attention was a bit pathetic, but _he _was the metaphorical owner, so he wasn't going to complain about that.

But didn't seem too happy… were the Chief and Jules.

Shawn turned to the blonde woman, almost begging. He smiled- because the ladies loved his smile and could never say no to that lovely face of his (he wasn't an idiot- he knew that he didn't get Jules to date him because he was a responsible and mature adult. Pf. Like it was even possible).

"Yes Chief, we can solve crimes, here. And we'll be twice as efficient now. I mean, Look at Gus! He's unstoppable now!"

The Chief looked at the "psych" duo, with a face that could mean that a)she was sorry or b) she had been caught red-handed, and her next words told Shawn that he had been (sort of) wrong.

She was both a and b.

"I'm sorry Mister Spencer, but we already have a guy."

Shawn tried his best "annoyed and offended" expression (worth of the best Shakespearian company, if he could say so himself). "Oh, Really? It's funny, because I don't see him here!"

Jules made a face, hands on her hips. She was almost grimacing, and Shawn was almost positive that his lovely love's eyes were glassy. As he noticed so, he saw red: whoever this guy was, Jules _hated _him. She sighed, at closed eyes. "He is in the kitchen." She simply said.

As on cue, they heard the noise of broken dishes coming from the direction of the kitchen, and Gus and Shawn both turned to see if they could get a glimpse of what was happening. Jules sighed, and the Chief grunted something- very un-lady-like and ehy, Shawn knew that the Chief was a real lady, and for her to grunt like that… the guy was probably infuriating.

(Oh, yeah, he could already start to prep his bran new signature for his brand new contract with the SFPD as a consultant.)

"JANE!" they heard a feminine voice scream, and less than half a minute later, a brunette tackled to the ground a blonde girl (whose nails were screaming murder, if Shawn could be honest) who was trying to run away from the crime scene. The Chief helped the brunette to stand, and in the same moment a blonde guy dressed in an old, ugly three pieces suite left the kitchen, teacup and saucer in hand.

"Well done, Lisbon. Now, if I'm done here, I'd take my beloved baby for a joyride. No one took good care of her while I was gone in the last two years…" he sighed, and he left the cup on the nearest table, looking outside the window, his eyes fixed on a very old car.

(Yes, Shawn knew that it was a Robin eggshell Citroen DX, but he wasn't going to admit it out loud. He was already considered… well, weird. He wasn't going to allow them to call him a car snob. Nope. No Freaking way in hell.)

"Lisbon" aka hot brunette, clenched her teeth, and Shawn saw her knuckles turning white. Oh well. Looks like Blondie wasn't going on a joyride after all. Unless you considered a joyride traveling on a hearse- in the _back_.

"Please Jane, forgive me if in the last two years I've been too occupied to rebuild my career and my life after you escaped to your little island in the middle of nowhere." Lisbon was utterly calm. That was why Shawn was almost positive that a murder was going to happen, soon.

"Jeez, Lisbon, no need to be snappy. Besides, didn't I tell you that sarcasm is…" she sent him a pointed look, and Jane mimicked zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. As he did so, Lisbon went away with the murderer, sighing, "Jane" strolling at her back like a love-sick puppy.

(ok, a) he hoped that the poor guy's first name wasn't Jane- unless, of course, he wasn't a she, in reality, and b), he hoped that he wasn't that pathetic when he strolled after Jules.)

He exchanged a look with Gus as he looked at Lisbon, Jane and the Chief entering in a police car, "He can't possibly be as good as us."

"Well, I guess we'll see…" Jules said, smiling, and ready to enter in her own car.

Gus looked at his oldest friend, and then at the dead body in the room. "Nope." He simply said.

After all, weren't they unstable?


End file.
